When You Hope it’s Just Water

I live in the Tenderloin District of San Francisco.  You may be surprised by this next statement, but I swear it’s true:

In the more-than-thirty-seven years I’ve lived in this general section of San Francisco, I’ve had only a couple of experiences getting hit with substances that are poured or dropped from building windows.

Today was one of those times when the unexpected happened.  I was walking home from the grocery store.

It wasn’t that bad.  The liquid that hit me didn’t appear to be anything worse than water, and two lovely roses hit the sidewalk.  I yelled something regrettable, but left the roses for others to enjoy.

On the precautionary assumption that the liquid was something nasty, I used disinfectant wipes on everything I was carrying, washed my hair and did an emergency load of laundry.  It should be okay.  Today is one of the few times I’ve actually been grateful for the excessive plastic packaging they use on Trader Joe’s merchandise.

Now, I’m figuring something like this will happen to a person in my neighborhood every twenty years or so.  It was that long ago when someone in a residential hotel narrowly missed me when dumping something much worse than water out of a window.  I was wearing dark colored clothing, and since I couldn’t tell if the mess had splashed on me I did the laundry thing.

If you’d like to share your own horror story of falling objects, liquids, bodily products or slime, please use the comment section.  That’s what it’s there for.🤔

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